


Snoopy and Muttley

by Still Invincible (Tocsin)



Series: Deadpool, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-30
Updated: 2012-05-30
Packaged: 2017-11-06 07:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/416336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tocsin/pseuds/Still%20Invincible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Hawkeye recruited Deadpool for S.H.I.E.L.D - A Marvel movieverse AU</p><p>Inspired by gifsets on Tumblr and a prompt on Avengerskink</p><p>(Gen for now but heavy bromance. Some actual romance at some point in the future. Coulson and Natasha's roles are small but that'll change. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snoopy and Muttley

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place three years before the Avenger's movie. Clint's been with S.H.I.E.L.D- OH EXCUSE ME. He's been with The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division for two years and Natasha one. 
> 
> No beta because I don't have one!!!! I did, however, work on this over several days so it hopefully won't be too horrible. Feel free to correct anything in the comments, however.

“You're kidding me.” 

Coulson's expression doesn't change, his hand still holding a folder out to Clint that has more 'CLASSIFIED' and 'TOP SECRET' stickers on it than he's ever seen. 

“You want me to go recruiting? Wasn't Natasha enough? Hell, you should probably send her. She'd be better at it.” He's seen Natasha's acting skills plenty of times. She could win a couple of Oscars if she decided she wanted an acting career. 

“Black Widow is a wonderful asset but she's still adjusting to field work.” Which was Coulson speak for 'The higher ups still don't quite trust her' which was bull but he could understand. A former spy defecting from a sometimes hostile nation? He could understand but he didn't like it. She'd done a lot of good already in a short time

“Also she might... Intimidate the man into running.” 

Clint snorted but took the file from him “She's intimidating to everyone” He flipped the file open, his eyebrows shooting up at the walls of black paragraphs he sees with just the smallest bits of legible text scattered about. 

“That's all I can give you. The rest of it is still classified.” 

“Seriously? This is all I get? His name, some blurry pictures, his address, and places he's seen hanging around... How is he this classified?” 

Coulson's lips twitch into an almost smile “Classified” 

“Of course.” He shut the file, frustrated but trying not to let it show. He was an agent and now he had a job to do “Do I have a time-line for this?” 

“As long as it takes. Bring him in Barton, before someone else gets him”

\------- 

So Clint found himself in New York, stalking the man who he was increasingly realizing was the most boring person he'd ever stalked.

Wade Wilson, AKA Deadpool, kept an odd but consistent schedule. In the mornings he went out for food. He had regular places but the days he went to them were either random or in some order Clint didn't have time to figure out. Then he went home and watched TV. Everyday. He fidgeted about while he did. He made phone calls or cleaned (unregistered and illegal) weapons but his ass was glued to his crappy sofa, eyes on the screen. 

Lunch was just a repeat of this and so was dinner though sometimes he walked around the city seemingly aimless to even Clint's practiced eye. He just couldn't figure it out. Why the hell did Fury want this loser? He could see some of his personality among the mindless tedium of TV and food runs, but he couldn't see the _skills_ that were hinted out in the gutted file he'd received. 

Then one night he completely lost him. One minute Deadpool was there and then next it seemed he was gone. After a few hours searching he gave up, going to the apartment he had in the building across from Deadpool's and waited. At three in the morning he came back, dressed in a red and black costume that he somewhat recognized from the blurry pictures, and even from his spot Clint could see him dripping blood all over his carpets. The noise coming from Deadpool's opened window confused him for a few seconds until he realized the bastard was actually singing.

He read in the newspaper the next day about some gang having all it's members killed in 'what the police were calling an unacceptable escalation in the city's gang wars'. Clint made sure to send Coulson an email about who he knew really took them out. Then he planned what he would wear for lunch. 

\------- 

Deadpool smirked when Clint sat across from him, a burrito in his hands and halfway to his mouth. 

“I was wondering when you were gonna come out from your hidey hole and introduce yourself” 

He took a disgustingly large bite of his food and Clint took that moment to assess him up close. He was tall, around six-three give or take an inch, and fairly muscular. He had a more athletic build than one of pure strength but Clint wouldn't want to get into a boxing match with the guy. Deadpool was fairly attractive he supposed, if smarmy assassins were your thing of course. And they kinda were Clint's but that was about the last thing on his mind for this mission. 

“How long did you know I was watching you?” 

He wiped a hand across his mouth before he answered “Ten days. How long have you been stalking me?” 

“Two weeks.” 

Deadpool's eyes narrowed and for a split second he was worried he'd blown this _already_ but the grin that broke across his face made it better. 

“Oh you're good. Not me good but yeah, good. If you were me good I wouldn't have noticed you at all but hey we can't all be awesome as I am.” 

Clint snorted “Sure. Whatever let's you sleep at night.” 

The other man's head tilted startling like a dog that just heard a noise. “Yeah, 'sleep'. If that's what they call it these days.” Before he could ask just what the hell that meant Deadpool put down his burrito and kept talking, 

“Who sent you? I mean, I'm totally flattered that you took the time to stalk me for two weeks but I doubt you're doing it because of my charming good looks and wonderful personality” 

Clint folded his hands together on the table, mentally pulling out the spiel he had prepared ahead of time and memorized. 

“I'm with The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. We're a group of-” 

Deadpool made a strangled noise and held up a hand for him to stop. Confused, he did. 

“God, no, stop. I know who you monkeys are. You don't need to give me a pamphlet talk. We can skip that part and go straight to the 'what do you want' bit.” 

It took a second for Clint's mind to get back on track. “Pamphlet talk? What- How the hell have you heard about us?” 

“You were about to give me a speech about your ridiculously named group that was going to sound like something from a pamphlet. I can hear that coming a mile away. As for the knowing part...” Deadpool's smile was something purely wicked. “I have this amazing hacker buddy and you guys happened to have some information I needed.” 

Clint's mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before he could muster a response. “Bullshit!” 

“No no, it's totally true!” Deadpool picks his burrito back up, gesturing with it as he continues talking. “Weasel is totally awesome with computer stuff and I needed an address for some guy somewhere.” With Clint's continued silence he sighs, pointing at him with his stupid burrito. He had to resist the strong desire to smack it out of his hand and leave. 

“Look, since I've clearly broken your mind and destroyed all you plans for this conversation, why don't you go get some food? The cart's right there” Another burrito point that had rice flying “They'll give you extra if you can order in Spanish. I recommend the enchiladas or the gorditas. Really, I recommend all of it but I'd kill a guy for the enchiladas. Now shoo.” He dodged a blob of sour cream from yet another burrito flail, nodding. He did need the time to regroup. 

Deadpool was nothing like he had expected. His surveillance had proved almost useless now confronted with who the man really was. From all the TV watching he'd expected someone lazy who would let him talk and let him persuade him into joining. He'd expected to have this guy signed up today and then go back to his real job in the morning. Now he wasn't sure what the hell was going to happen. He was stuck out in open water without a life vest and, to be honest, he kinda liked it. He was going to have to ditch the plans and take Deadpool as he came. 

Clint made it through the line and orders the enchiladas in Spanish to the delight of the men working. The make happy small talk with him until they present him an obscene amount of food on a paper plate and a request for him to come back soon. Head clear, he makes his way back to the table. Deadpool is done most of his food, chewing a gordita as Clint sit backs down. 

“See? What'd I tell you? I love those guys. You talk to them in Spanish and they're your best friends. They even have stuff set aside for me. Next time ask them for the Wilson special. You won't be disappointed.” He nods, encouraging Deadpool to talk as he starts eating what really is some of the best Mexican food he's had in years. Deadpool doesn't really need the prompting to keep blabbing. 

“I can't get them to get Chimichangas though. They tell me they aren't 'traditional' Mexican food and they won't do it. Felix actually threw an avocado at me when I kept bugging him about it but Gabriel gave me some extra food so it was all good. I think they should get churros but they don't want to get another fryer which is a sad state of affairs-” 

“So, how would you like to join the 'monkeys'?” Clint interrupted, deeply gratified to see Deadpool completely stupefied, his mouth gaping like a fish. 

“Bwu-huh?” It just got better. It was nice gaining back some control. 

“The Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. You called us monkeys earlier. Thought you'd make the connection. How would you like to join us? We'd make it worth your while, Deadpool.” The other man frowned, poking at the small bit of leftovers from his lunch with a fork. 

“Look... What's your name buddy?” 

“Clint Barton.” 

“Barton. Look, nothing personal, but you and your bosses are out of your skulls if you think I'll sign up. I don't like signing up for the government. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” 

“We can be fairly lenient in our contracts for special agents. Your handler would be able to set you up.” 

His nose wrinkled in disgust “See, that's stuff I don't like. 'Handler'. Makes me sound like I'm a dog. Sit, stay, kill those people. Good boy! Have a bone!” 

Clint tapped his chin as though in thought “You know, you'd make a horrible dog. I don't even think you're a purebred” 

Deadpool snorts a laugh “Oh hell no. I'm the king of mutts” 

“Well, at least you're the king.” 

Deadpool looks at Clint curiously “You think? But you... You're pure bred through and through. A beagle, maybe.” 

Clint laughs, scooping up a forkful of his food “I always did like Snoopy.” 

Deadpool perks up and, seriously, the dog comparison just keeps happening. They spend the rest of the afternoon talking about Peanuts and old cartoons. This wasn't where he thought this meeting would go but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't having fun. At almost four he gets a one word text from Coulson. 'Well?' 

“Oh right... So Dead-” 

“Nah, just go with Wade. Especially since we're in public” 

“OK, Wade. Can I tell my boss you'll be coming in tomorrow?” Wade looked thoughtful then shrugged.

“Not feeling it today, Snoopy. How about you come for lunch tomorrow and ask me again.” 

Clint answered without even thinking “Sure thing Muttley” 

There was silence then Wade laughed long and hard “Muttley... Yeah, I can live with that.” 

\------- 

They have a standing lunch appointment everyday for a month before Coulson frowns and tells him that as long as he's goofing off instead of recruiting then he can go back to work. Clint reminds that he didn't give him a time-line and he was asking Wade everyday to join but he doesn't fight him too hard on it. He's missed the grunt work. Lunch still happens and he does ask Wade before he even sits with him if he'll join. He gets about the same answer everyday too 

“Ask me tomorrow, Snoopy. Now get over here! You have to try this! It's like a deep fried orgasm...”

He'd given Wade his number so he could stop stalking him and the other man could just tell him where he'd be for lunch. When work interfered he'd call and give Wade the bare bones and reschedule. It was good for when Deadpool went back to work too. He would send Clint a text along the lines of 'Srry bsy 4 nxt week. africa! will send pstcrd' which he would decipher then watch the news for anything that would give a hint to what he was getting up to. From what Clint could tell from what he assumed were his jobs, Deadpool was more skilled than he thought. The jobs ranged from assassinations, corporate thefts, and general espionage. Of course, not all of it made the news but Natasha was nice enough to put files on his desk about mysterious men in red wrecking shit in foreign countries. 

After another week of missed lunches he actually got a call from Wade instead of a lazy text. 

“Snoopy! What are you doing, right now?” 

“I'm just getting done work...” He answered warily. 

“You remember where my apartment is from when you stalked me?” 

“When you put it like that it all sounds so sordid....” Wade made a frustrated noise that makes him smile. He's always so damn fun to rile up. 

“It was, but that's not the point! You need to come over! Now! There's a Golden Girls marathon on!” 

“Golden Girls? You watch that trash?” Clint didn't know it was possible for someone to gasp and scream at the same time but Wade pulled it off somehow 

“Clinton Barton, you bite your tongue!” He winced over the line. He didn't like a shrill Wade. Especially not a shrill Wade that used his full name like that. “You come over now and watch. Then you can send a letter to Bea Arthur and apologize.” 

He just sighed “Sure Muttley. I'll be over in thirty.”  


And that's how the Friday Night Marathons started. They watch enough TV that Clint thinks his mind is going to melt out his ears. Wade talks through most of it but he can multi-task and listening to Wade's babble is pretty easy. It's fun to have someone to talk the plots out with though he still hasn't forgiven him for spoiling the end of _Serenity_ for him that was at the end of their Firefly marathon. He slips up now when he asks Wade to join but they both let it pass. It's fun and freeing in a way he hadn't thought possible. 

Of course it couldn't last. 

Clint comes in early on a Friday. He'd been on a mission but had finished things up rather quickly. He thought he'd surprise Wade with beer and his DVD collection of John Wayne movies. This was partially because he was sick of all the sitcoms and if he had to watch one more episode of Married With Children he was going to strangle someone. The man never locks his door so Clint just opens it and let's himself in like he does every other Friday. His mouth his open, the word 'surprise' on his lips when he spots Wade and his throat closes up. 

Wade is just as surprised, standing around in boxers and a tank top. That's not what get him. What gets him is that Wade's skin is covered in scars. Head to toe scars that look _old_ and his hair is gone and what the _fuck_ happened while he was gone? They just stare at each other until Wade makes a broken noise that would have sounded more at home on a wounded animal and dives for his couch. He pulls the blanket off the back of it and wraps himself up in it, curling up on the couch so not an inch of him showing anymore. 

Clint still isn't sure just what's going now but he's got enough of his mind to ask “What?” 

“Get the fuck out, Barton” Wade's voice is harsh and he hasn't called him 'Barton' since the third lunch 

“What? No.” He shuts the door behind him, dropping the beer and DVDs by the doorstop. 

“I said get out! Don't make me throw you out!” But Clint's walking closer and he's just curling more in on himself.

“And I said no. Wade, what happened? Why do you look- What happened?” He sounds a little desperate but for all his faults, Clint likes Wade. He can be annoying as hell but they've had hours of conversations about nothing and everything. That counts for something. He needs to know what this is. 

“Like you don't already know.” He shifts in his blanket cocoon enough that Clint could see his face and he's angrier than he's ever seen him. “You're government. You have files on me. You know!” 

“I don't- I told you! I had basically nothing on you when I got assigned to you. I swear I didn't know anything about whatever this is. Come one. Tell me.” 

Wade's silent and Clint isn't really expecting to answer. At least not yet. But when he does respond it's quiet and lacks any real emotion. It's one of the most terrifying things he's ever heard. 

“I have a healing factor. I get hurt I keep going. Nothing can stop me. The reason I got the healing factor though...” He sighs, shifting out of the blanket, his head poking through the gap. “I had cancer. Have, whatever. The healing factor keeps it from knocking me off but it makes me look like something H. R. Giger threw up.” 

He's trying to process the powers bit and the cancer (Jesus fuck) part but there's easier, slightly lest problematic things he can choose to focus on. 

“I wouldn't say Giger... You'd need to be more metallic sci-fi for for him.” 

Wade snorts “Fine. How about something Salvador Dali thought up while drunk? That's a good one I'll have to remember that-” 

“Damn it, stop! It's not that bad!” As soon as the words are out, Clint knows they were wrong. Wade straightens up, furious. 

“Not so bad?! Not so bad! You try walking down the street like _this_ -” He gestures to his still covered body, yelling “And then you tell me it's not bad! The way people stare and move to the other side of the street. They tell their kids to stay away from me 'in case they catch it', like I'm fucking contagious! They ask what's wrong or look at me like they're so damn sorry and fuck that!” Some of the fight melts out of him and he turns his head from Clint with a shrug. He's sending so many mixed signals Clint's struggling to keep up with them. 

“That's why I asked Weasel to get the image inducer. So I could at least walk around without feeling like a total freak. It's expensive as hell but it was worth every penny.” 

He's still at a loss for words and it looks that the other man has finally run out of things to say. The silence is awkward now and it makes something ache inside him. He doesn't know what could make this better so he just dives in without thinking. 

“Wade I didn't... I didn't mean to sound like as much of a jerk as I did. I didn't know what you went through and just because I don't think you look so bad doesn't mean that some people aren't stupid bastards about it” 

“You don't think it looks so bad.” he parrots back, eyes back on Clint dumbfounded. 

“I don't.” Clint shrugs, lifting up the hem of his shirt to show him the old ugly knife wound across his stomach “Everyone has scars. You just have a hell of a lot more than anyone else but that's OK. Now, do you want some beer? I brought John Wayne movies too if you want but I'm not sitting through another night of sitcoms if you're not up for Wayne” 

Natasha had told him once about how she knew when she had a long time mark in the palm of her hand. 

“There's a look.” She had said, holding her shot glass steadily while he filled it for her “You can see it in their eyes. The way they look at you is horrible sometimes because you know they'll do whatever you want just to get you to stay” 

She'd downed the shot and gave him a razor smile “But it's not often that it's bad. It gets easier as you go” 

He hadn't understood then but now he thinks he does, just a bit. Wade is looking at him like he's the most important person in the world and that confuses him. He knows in the pit of his stomach that if he asked right now, he'd have Wade signing contracts for Coulson tomorrow. 

“Wade... John Wayne?” 

Wade blinks then shakes himself, dropping the blanket to rest at his waist. 

“Yeah, I could go for The Duke tonight” 

\------- 

Things changed again after that but not by much. They still had lunch when they could and Friday marathons but Wade started tagging along on Clint's missions. Coulson is as pissed as Clint's seen him when he found out (By which he means he actually looked kinda mad. It was horrifying) but when Wade buts in, talking to him about 'trial runs' and 'testing this out' they get permission to go. It's nice to have another accomplished bullshitter around. 

He still personally thinks it's a horrible idea at first. Wade is a distraction and never takes anything seriously, missions be damned. He encourages him to slack off as well and he's as tempting as a demon at it. But when bullets start flying he does what Natasha does for Clint; He's up close and personal, drawing fire and soon they're working together just as good as Nat and he do. Unlike most of the other people he ends up working with he doesn't ask about the bow. It might be because he likes to use katanas instead of the other more 'modern' things he could use to kill. 

They learn more about each other too. They veer far from safe topics as the prepare weapons and in between murders: The Circus. Weapon X. Lost loves and shattered dreams. Wade pries the information from Clint like he's pulling teeth and Wade changes the subject when Clint asks him things only to answer him some time later out of the blue. It hurts both of them but it's a catharsis that he hadn't been able indulge in with Nat. There had been too much distrust between them at first. They'd been wary of each other for months before she saved him from a squad of goons. It was smooth sailing after that. He'd give his life for her now and he's told her most of what he's telling him now. It doesn't get easier to talk about though...

But he's come to realize that as much as he jokes Wade is about as broken of a man as they come. He's a man held together with duct tape and pure determination covered with annoying bravado. As fond as he is about Wade he can't understand why Fury really wants him other than his abilities. Having an Agent that can resist torture and can't die would be incredibly useful but beyond that.... He's so much more fragile than he looks. He doesn't understand but if he got to work with both Wade and Nat all the time, well, there were worst fates in the world. 

\------- 

One day Wade leaves for a job of his own, looking unhappy about it. 

He's helping a guy he hates and tells Clint “I need the cash and don't give me that look Snoopy. I have rent due and I have to get some cash in. Don't judge me” 

He has to bite his tongue against the question he hasn't asked since the John Wayne night. 'If you worked with me you wouldn't need the money that bad' 

“No judgment here. Good luck Muttley” Clint gives his shoulder a squeeze then goes back to base. Wade's gone for only two days, a lot shorter than he expected. Clint's just about to go get a pizza when he calls. 

“Hello.” The silence he gets in return doesn't bode well. “Wade?” 

“Come over. Now.” Then the phone clicks off and Clint _runs_. 

He's out of breath by the time he gets to the apartment, gasping for air in the doorway. It only occurs to him now, with Wade sitting on the couch with just his gloves off that he could be playing a prank to see how fast he could get there. He's gets control of his breathing, stepping in and shutting the door behind him. 

“Wade? What happened?” 

His shoulder's slump, his eyes fixed on his hands. “Clint, I tried. I tried so damn hard.” He's completely wrecked and Clint's right at his side, an around his shoulders. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

After a few false and stuttering starts Wade manages to choke out “There was this kid...” and Clint wants to stop him now, before it gets worse because there's no good story in their lives that start that way. 

“There was a kid... He had these powers. Some fire monster thing. He couldn't control it at all when he got scared and powering up made him scared so it was an endless cycle of fear and he couldn't stop” He wrings his hands, finally looking at Clint. “I talked him down, calmed him down. He was just a poor kid who couldn't control what he was. I've heard talk about this school... I was already planning to talk to Weasel about it and get the kid there ASAP. But that son of a bitch!” 

His fists clench and Clint can see the rage even through the layer of his mask. “He killed him. Shot him right in the head and I've tried so fucking hard to be good but it never works. Why doesn't it work?” 

Clint pulls him in by his shoulders, wrapping his other arm around him for a hug. He's not a hug type of guy, really, but he can see what his friend needs. He needs the contact. Wade tucks his head under Clint's chin, hands grabbing his shirt tight. 

“It wasn't your fault Wade.” 

“The hell it's not-” 

“It's not your fault. You were just along for the ride. It shouldn't have happened at all, but it did and it's not your fault.” 

“I just wanted to help the kid and get a paycheck at the end of the day. Is that so much to ask?” 

Clint's had the words stuck on his tongue for months, since the fucking John Wayne night but now it feels right. He squeezes Wade tighter. 

“Hey. Why don't you just join us already?” 

Wade lifts his head, not surprised but wary 

“What, now you ask? Talk about your timing.” 

“My timing is perfect and you know it.” He shakes him a little. “You could do so much good, Wade. Join us. Please.” 

The silence is almost unbearable but part of Clint has known this would happen for months. So when his friend ( _Partner_ , a happy part of his mind now corrects) gives him a shrug and a smile he's just as unsurprised as he was when the question was asked. 

“Well I guess since you asked so nicely.... “

**Author's Note:**

> THIS FIC IS A FUCKING MONSTER JFC. It was 10 pages in OpenOffice _how did this happen help me_
> 
> Also the kid bit at the end was based on Deadpool V1, 58 where he talked down a mutant kid who was kinda like the Hulk except fire and when he was telling the kid everything was ok Kane shot the kid. SO YEAH. Angst forever.


End file.
